Awkward
by I may be a tree
Summary: Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful, kind and clumsy princess. This fair lady had long since resigned herself to the fact that while she would never be the most graceful swan , she instead perfected the art of maintaining one's dignity in embarrassing, sometimes painful situations. Short and sweet oneshot, please feel free to review


**Just a thing, spur of the moment, hope you like. Cheap and cheerful.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim all stuff what needs disclaiming.**

Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful, kind and clumsy princess. This fair lady had long since resigned herself to the fact that while she would never be the most graceful swan , she instead perfected the art of maintaining one's dignity in embarrassing, sometimes painful situations. For instance, when she was fourteen and lost her footing on the main staircase in her fathers palace, and landed with a loud, soft thump on her backside in front of three hundred people at a ball in her honour. She had merely straightened herself up, brushing off her glittering gown and smiled good naturedly at the laughter that seemed to go on a lot longer than the event warranted. She'd blushed inwardly for hours after, and again every time she remembered it. Or when someone mentioned it to her, which was far too often in her opinion.

Or when she was seventeen, and ripped her dress in the most unfortunate and mortifying way possible. Gaston had never let her live that one down, getting an odd, predatory look in his eyes that Belle did not particularly care to dwell on.

Or just the other day, when, in a valiant effort to let in some light to this gloomy old castle that was to be her home for eternity she'd fallen and landed right into her new 'employers' arms before she could fall and break something she'd probably need in the future, like her spine. His speed had shocked her, and she had been utterly sincere in her thanks. Belle had broken a bone or two in her time, she had no wish to relive the experience. She had fractured her leg in her youth, and had nearly gone stir crazy from being cooped up, forced to rest by her doting father for weeks on end. Hating to be idle for prolonged lengths of time, it was probably the reason she wasn't all that resentful about being trapped here, basically a prisoner to this dark, devious sorcerer.

She was sure that was the reason.

Luckily, when next her unfortunate awkwardness next presented itself, she was alone, and did not have to muffle her cries when, in a moment of complete idiocy she'd reached out and grabbed a fiercely hot saucepan, having forgotten she'd left it over the fire for a good five minutes. In her defence, she'd been distracted, trying to wrest the kitchen window open to let in some air. At times it felt like the castle had it in for her, though it was far likelier that it had never been opened. Rumplestiltskin did not really strike her as the type to appreciate fresh air.

Being immortal must shift ones priorities.

Cradling her burnt hand to her chest and trying not to cry with the pain, she slowly, agonisingly opened out her hand to examine the damage.

It was worse than she expected. Stifling a sob at the sight of the angry redness stretching across her palm and the pads of her fingers, she fetched a bucket of cold water and immersed her hand, biting her lip at the extreme change in temperature. Taking several deep breaths as her hand began to numb, she jumped at the sound of the kettle, whistling its readiness. With a sigh, she gently dried her hand, bandaging the worst of it in some clean cloth, deciding she'd find some balm or ointment after she brought her master his beverage.

Carrying the tea tray was problematic, luckily her hand was still numb from the icy water, but she was sure that wasn't going to last. Hurrying to the dining hall, she prayed to any and all deities she could think of that she wouldn't trip. A steady, painful throbbing was now presenting itself.

Rumplestiltskin looked up the moment she entered the room. He was already seated in the high chair. It often struck her as odd that he needed such a huge table for one person. Then again most of what she knew about him struck her as odd.

"You're late", he admonished in his sing song voice, watching her progress across the hall.

"Sorry", she replied breathlessly, placing the tray down in front of the imp. As she did so however, the tray grazed off her palm, just enough to make her wince, and to make Rumplestiltskin notice the bandage on her palm.

"What's this, dearie", he enquired playfully, taking her hand into his own, unravelling the makeshift bandage she had constructed. She knew better than to pull away, and honestly, she didn't really mind. His touch was quite gentle, his hands blessedly cool against her own inflamed skin.

"Nothing. Just burnt my hand is all", she replied, careful to look only at him and not at her injury.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, playful, giggly tone gone now. He sounded almost... human, and... not worried but something close.

"Yes", she replied. She considered lying, but what was the point, he could see the extent of the damage, the bright shiny redness contrasting with the smooth milky skin of the rest of her palm. And Belle never had been much of a liar.

Smiling brightly, she gently took her hand back from his grasp.

"It'll be fine, I'll get some salve or something and-" she was cut off by his eye roll and sudden presence of his fingers on her lips. He'd stood up, and taken her hand back into his own. He frowned, pursing his lips as if in concentration, and Belle began to feel a pleasant tingling replace the throbbing in her hand, and a faint golden glow emanated from her palm. The process took but a few seconds, but she'd been staring at him and he at her with the oddest look, and it seemed a lot longer.

Rumplestiltskin returned what she knew to be a perfectly healed hand to her, still staring intently at her. He flopped back into his chair without a word.

Belle knew well that if she asked why he had just done that, he would only tell her something along the lines of not wanting his servant unfit for duty or words to that effect. Simple, logic. But she knew she was grateful that he had spared her pain, and that he had been anxious for her. So she said nothing, merely smiled, leaning down and kissing his cool cheek softly, murmuring a sincere "Thank you", before standing up and walking out.

Rumplestiltskin watched her leave, cupping his cheek in his hand and smiling softly

**And then they realised 'Hey, we're the two awesomest characters on the show, let's just ignore all this angst-y stuff and shag'**

**And so they did.**

**Except not really.**

**If you liked, feel free/obliged to leave a review. Pretty sure this is just a one shot, but I'm not above selling out for a steady stream of praise. Just saying.**

**I may be a tree.**


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